Kindred Spirits
by Starseeker1
Summary: When the war starts to drag Optimus Prime down, a Fourth of July drive ends with him finding inspiration in the strangest of places.


Disclaimer: Starseeker, much to her chagrin, does not own Optimus Prime or any of the other Autobots or Decepticons, for they are all slaves of Hasbro.   


Kindred Spirits 

  


What was that term humans were so fond of using? It was supposed to describe a situation in which one feels trapped; where, in essence, one sits and spins one's wheels but never manages to move significantly in one direction or the other. 'Stuck in a rut'? Yes, that was the saying. 

The real question was whether or not Optimus Prime was stuck in one. The truth was he had never really thought that much about it before. For many vorn he and the Autobots had fought Megatron and the Decepticons, day in and day out. Over that time, nothing really changed, except for the fact that Cybertron grew weaker and more damaged with each passing battle. When the war had extended itself to Earth, still things had not changed much. Life had become a bit more complicated, yes, since now Optimus had the welfare of Earth's innocent, native inhabitants to keep in mind. But overall, the war had remained unaltered – the Autobots and Decepticons still battled endlessly, as always, with a shared tenacity that, at times, often cancelled each other out and ended up in a stalemate. 

Yes, the Autobots had won many battles, but were they winning the war? For that matter, was _anybody _winning the war? The two factions were really no weaker nor stronger than they had been before they left Cybertron. Both sides appeared evenly matched and neither gained an advantage for very long. No, the war had raged on for a long time and the end was still nowhere within sight. 

Optimus sighed as he looked around the medical bay, observing his troops. Ratchet grumbled and frantically raced around in an attempt to get the most serious repairs done and out of the way. Bluestreak sat on an examination table swinging his legs back and forth. His left door was twisted at a painfully odd angle, but Bluestreak chattered on as if it didn't bother him. Or maybe he was jabbering away _because _it bothered him; Bluestreak was sometimes hard to read like that. Sideswipe leaned against a wall and showed off his battle wounds, trying to one-up every injury Brawn presented him. Sunstreaker didn't seem impressed by his brother's 'badges of honor'; he was more concerned about getting Ratchet's immediate attention to shift to his chipping paint. Bumblebee lay on a table close to Ironhide, patiently waiting his turn. He looked over and, for a moment, caught Prime's optics. The Minibot gave his leader a brave smile and a thumbs-up signal he had picked up from Spike. 

Prime looked away. His men trusted him so much, put so much faith into him that he'd bring them out on top, as if everything would be okay as long as Optimus was there. There were days when he felt he didn't deserve to be put on such a pedestal, and today was one of those days. What had he been able to give them? Certainly not a significant win, something they could boast about and reflect back upon when they needed hope that they could, indeed, win this war and live out the rest of their lives in peace and security. No, looking around that medical bay hit Prime hard with the realization of how far they _hadn't _come in all this time. The scene could've been from three days ago, or last week, or the month before. It all ended up the same, every successive battle. It had been this way for several Earth years now. How much longer would such a stalemate last? How long would the war as a whole drag on? Were the Autobots really stuck in a rut? 

Optimus was shaken out of his thoughts by Ratchet's voice. "Prime?" 

"Yes, Ratchet?" 

"Do you need any repairs?" 

Optimus subconsciously rubbed his left shoulder where there was a particularly impressive dent. "No," he answered, "not right now. Just a few dents and dings here and there, all superficial. Take care of the others first." 

Ratchet nodded his understanding and made his way toward Bluestreak, who was more than happy to immediately dispense the courageous story of how his door had come to such a fate in explicit detail while the longsuffering medic pretended to listen. 

Whether it was from the atmosphere of the room or his own nagging doubts, Optimus felt a need to get away and soon found himself walking along one of the Ark's many corridors. However, the same oppressive mood remained heavy upon his shoulders, and soon Prime began to feel as if the very walls themselves were closing in on him. He needed to get away from it all, if only for a little while. 

Prowl understood when Prime told him what he had in mind to do. The tactician even agreed that it would do his leader some good to get a little fresh air and a short reprieve from the demands of leadership. Still unsure if he should really leave for a while, Optimus checked and double-checked that all lines of communication would remain open while he was gone, in case something should happen. Jazz reassured him, and Prowl felt confident that the Decepticons, after the results of their last meeting, would not be planning on trying any shenanigans anytime soon. In the end, Jazz had to practically push Optimus out of the Ark. 

As the big rig rolled off towards the nearest road, Jazz jokingly called after him, "And don't worry about curfew!"   


~***~ 

  


When Optimus Prime got out onto open road, he really had no destination in mind. The whole outing had been a rather spontaneous idea and he still hoped he wouldn't regret taking such a leave. All he knew was that he just couldn't stand being trapped in the Ark with his own self doubts much longer and had to get away for a little while. However, no matter how beautiful and clear the day was, Optimus could not run from his own thoughts, and the endless expanse of desert and asphalt had his mind wandering back to those nagging questions. If he and his troops were in a rut, how would he lead them out of it? 

With a grunt of frustration, he accelerated. He knew that question would need to be answered someday, but right now his weary mind just wanted to find some peace. A distraction was what he needed. Portland was fairly close, so he decided to head there for the day. Optimus found he was in even more luck as he checked his internal clock. It was July 4 and he was fairly sure he remembered Spike mentioning something about a human holiday on this date. There was bound to be some sort of festive activity going on to help him clear his mind!   


~***~ 

  


Sure enough, he was right. Portland seemed the center of a veritable nexus of excitement and energy. American flags hung draped from every street lamp. Ribbons of red, white, and blue spun themselves around trees and were plastered in the front windows of shops. Tents selling every imaginable firecracker dotted parking lots and street corners, and excited children walked hand-in-hand with their parents while clutching little flags or star-spangled balloons. The sounds of music floated from a nearby park, where a man threw a Frisbee to his Uncle Sam scarf-adorned canine. Troubles seemed distant and the aura of the day carried a sort of joy and pride about it. Portland was, indeed, the perfect place for one to seek distraction. The fact that a giant robot bedecked with a patriotic paint job himself had shown up and was strolling down the street merely added to the excitement! 

Optimus found the park from which the music had originated. The band was no longer playing, but beside it a makeshift stage stood, around which a small crowd of people were gathered. He watched on curiously as several younger humans – children – made their way onstage dressed up in funny clothing. Some sported little white wigs, others had tri-pointed hats, and one even had a fake beard and black top hat. The kids hustled into place with no small amount of nervous rustling, but before long the play started… 

"I pledge allegiance to the flag…" 

"Four score and seven years ago…" 

"Give me liberty or give me death!" 

"We the People…" 

"… find these truths to be self-evident…" 

"… that all men are created equal…" 

"With malice toward none, with charity for all…" 

The play did not last for very long, and in the end it was merely a string of quotes thrown around, but the parents were touched, the kids were proud, and Prime's curiosity was aroused. He had been aware that these humans had a civil war in their history, but he had never thought about the similarities such an event might share with the civil war the Transformers found themselves caught up in today. Determined to learn more, he made his way to the closest library.   


~***~ 

  


Although the library was loathe to lend out a book to someone with no library card, it was upon the good faith of the librarian and Optimus Prime's promise that he'd stay in the general area that he found himself in temporary possession of a book about the American Civil War. Taking a seat in the vacant lot behind the library, the Autobot leader looked down at the humble little book. It was certainly no Teletraan One, but it would do for the time being. The cover was worn and faded, and upon the simple brown background was written the phrase _Tin Type. _The first page displayed the title once more, and in addition it read: "_Written by Chip Davis. Foreword by Bill Fries"_. It was the next page that really started the book, and Optimus read through the foreword with great interest. 

_"There was a time, in those tin type days of our long-lost America when we pictured ourselves together. Families. Good friends. One great nation, under God and the Flag. We were the **United **States of America!"_

'The Golden Age', thought Optimus. 

"_But there was a time when those rusting tin types in our family albums showed a nation broken in two, ripped apart at the very seams of two Flags.""_

Off to the side was a drawing of the Confederate flag and the Union flag. In Prime's mind, he saw the Decepticon and Autobot symbols… 

_ "So torn apart, we fought each other: fathers against fathers, sons against sons… some as young as fifteen!"_   
  
Bumblebee came to mind. He was certainly not fifteen, but he was still too young to have to be involved in an ugly, violent war. 

_ "And tearful mothers kissed their good little boys goodbye; they marched off to war to fight for one flag or another, or to die, crying.___

_ "And there was a time, of course, one blue-gray day, a time to honor the graves of our gallant young men and our good little boys who'd given their lives for their Flag.___

_ "So, there, at Gettysburg, came a tall, quiet man -- a man with the truth of the prairies in his eyes and a deep sadness in his heart – to say a few kind words."_   
  
The Autobot leader felt something stir within his spark. 

_ "The sound of his voice is forgotten now, lost in time and space, but we will never forget his words:___

_ 'Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.'"_

Freedom is the right of all sentient beings…   
  
"_Abraham Lincoln, the 16th President of the United States, said this.___

_ ''he world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.'___

_ "But we do remember what they did, Mr. President, and we will never, never forget you or your last few words… your last, few, precious words:___

_ 'That from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we, here, highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain… that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom, and this government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.'___

_ "There was a time in those tin type days of our great, great grandfathers when the War between ourselves was over. When, once again, we called ourselves… the **United **States of America!" (1)_

Optimus read on with renewed fascination, read through the history of that bleak war and the man who barely held the country together through it. It was late afternoon when he approached the final words of the book. 

_ "Abraham Lincoln is remembered for his vital role as the leader in preserving the Union during the Civil War and beginning the process that led to the end of slavery in the United States. He is also remembered for his character, his speeches and letters, and as a man of humble origins whose determination and perseverance led him to the nation's highest office." (2)_

As Optimus returned the book to its rightful owner, he decided it was time to head back to where he belonged. He wanted to ponder over this influx of new data back in the sanctity of the Ark. 

However, getting back to the Ark was suddenly going to take a long time. As Prime approached the streets, he found throngs of people blocking the sidewalks for quite a distance. The road was no less crowded as colorful floats and giant balloons paraded down the avenues, accompanied by local high school bands and JROTC units. Just when Optimus was beginning to wonder when the parade would end, he spotted the last float, slipped in at the end of the line, and transformed. 

It was quite an unexpected sight to see a semi bringing up the rear of a parade, but people seemed enthused by it all the same. A few folks appeared to recognize his Autobot symbols and cheered even louder as he rolled by. Several children looked up in awe, then began pumping their arms in the air in the universal sign recognized by most truckers. Optimus chuckled to himself and, in response, let off a few deep, echoing honks. This thrilled the kids too no end and they waved their goodbyes as he drove by. 

At the right junction, Optimus broke off from the parade and rolled out onto open highway once more. The sun was beginning to die away, and as it did it set the white clouds afire with shades of red against the backdrop of a blue sky. The truck drove along in a decidedly better mood than he had been earlier on that same stretch of road.   


~***~ 

  


That night, several of the Autobots lazed around the outer perimeter of the Ark, their faces looking skyward toward Portland expectantly. Spike, Sparkplug, and Carly found themselves flanked on either side by an excited Bumblebee and a content Hound, while Jazz leaned back against a boulder with his hands cushioned behind his head. After several moments of impatient waiting, the gathered crowd was rewarded with a shower of light as Portland's fireworks show began. While they were too far away to hear the band play, Blaster helped provide the right atmosphere as he tuned into Portland radio and caught the broadcast of patriotic music accompanying the spectacular aerial explosions. 

Optimus found the array of blazing colors pleasing to his optic sensors, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought back to the doubts that had plagued him earlier and found that they no longer bothered him quite as much. For so long he had wondered if he could get his Autobots through their current conflict, and he had often felt so very alone in the responsibility of it. It made his burdens seem a little lighter to have learned about that past human leader, one with whom he held much in common. Lincoln, like he, had come from humble origins and did not ask to be settled with such an overwhelming task. Yet, somehow, he helped the nation through and, in the end, things were left better than they were before. Surely his predicament was not so different that the same couldn't happen. 

What Optimus had earlier called a rut he now relabeled as perseverance and resolve. War could not last forever and if his Autobots could only outlast the Decepticons, they would see peace once more. All he had to do was keep them hopeful and strong, and eventually their own determination would prevail. Abraham Lincoln may not be among the chorus of Autobot leader voices contained within the Matrix, but Prime would keep his words close at hand regardless. 

_ "That we here highly resolve these dead shall not have died in vain; that the nation, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.""_

Today, the Americans were celebrating their day of independence. In his spark, Optimus Prime felt, without the shadow of a doubt, that in the future the Autobots, too, would celebrate their own Independence Day.   


~***~ 

Author's Notes: 

(1) "Tin Type" was actually not a book but rather a track on "American Spirit", the new Mannheim Steamroller album. It's not really a song, per se, but more of a monologue set to music, but it inspired me to write this. So, credit where credit is due: everything in the italics that was quoted as the "foreword" was actually transcribed from the CD. The words were performed by Bill Fries and the music composed by Chip Davis. 

(2) This final paragraph came from the Abraham Lincoln Research Site ()   



End file.
